


All is Safe with a Lady Engaged

by lipstickstains (screaminginternally)



Series: for a moment, it felt like heaven [1]
Category: Mansfield Park - Jane Austen
Genre: Accidentally walking in on your cousin (whom you're into) and her husband gettin' it on, F/M, Implied Edmund/Fanny, Married Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:08:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24284893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/screaminginternally/pseuds/lipstickstains
Summary: It was a custom, for Mr and Mrs Crawford to disappear every afternoon or so, when they came to visit Mansfield Park.
Relationships: Henry Crawford/Fanny Price
Series: for a moment, it felt like heaven [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1753120
Comments: 10
Kudos: 58





	All is Safe with a Lady Engaged

Oh, but it was a custom, for Mr and Mrs Crawford to disappear every afternoon or so, when they came to visit Mansfield Park. Edmund could not claim that it was the custom for them at Everingham, their home, but when his dear Fanny and her husband came to visit her old home, they would most often be gone for an afternoon stroll, and not come back for an hour or few.

The garden was not extensive at Mansfield Park, so Edmund honestly had no idea where they disappeared off to, except that they were quietly happy whenever they came back—

* * *

But the sight before him now answered those queries.

Mr Crawford’s dark head was bent towards Fanny’s neck, his expression hidden by her dark hair curling around them. His hips snapped in time with Fanny’s moans, her half-swallowed cries quickly smothered by her husband’s mouth. They seemed insensate to their intruder, utterly wrapped in each other.

A fitting metaphor, given the grip that Fanny’s leg – her pale leg, her stocking still tethered above her knee, her slipper barely clinging to her toe – had around Mr Crawford’s hip. If Edmund didn’t know more, he would assume that they were one body, one half in man’s clothes, the other in a woman’s dress.

It was a sight Edmund could admit he’d never seen before, except, perhaps, in his most traitorous dreams that he did not even admit to his confessor – dreams of his cousin, his beloved Fanny, and her husband, whom Edmund could never admit was often displaced in Edmund’s dreams with another, another head of dark hair that Edmund could never confess would be mistaken for his own; but in those dreams, they never took place in the midst of an afternoon stroll: Fanny, as Edmund had known her, would never even conceive of such a thing – before this moment, Edmund could confess that the thought had not crossed his mind either – instead, taking place in a bedchamber, the door locked and most of the candles dutifully snuffed out.

In those dreams, the Fanny Price within did not make the sounds she made now – half-swallowed moans that were only held back by Mr Crawford’s mouth, gasps that could put a whore to shame for the passion in them. The visuals, however, were something similar: dark hair, pale skin, pink lips bitten red.

Except the reality was something else: instead of a dreamt Edmund between her legs, it was Henry Crawford accepting her kisses, enjoying the wet between her legs – as her husband, enjoying, cloying, motivating all the emotions and sensations that Fanny Crawford, when she was Fanny Price, would and could never have admitted to wanting. Yet in this moment, she was most certainly enjoying.

Where is evidence of matrimonial care? It is here: Fanny is wearing Henry’s day-coat over her own dress, protecting the back of her gown from the rough bark of the tree, the sleeves loose over her thin wrists. Her hair may be becoming mussed, her skirts wrinkled, yet Mr Crawford has extended her the courtesy of protection for her gown with his own clothing – so that Edmund might appreciate the back of the man, broader shoulders than Edmund’s own straining against the cotton, the green waist-coat about him unbuttoned, to make fucking his wife that bit more enjoyable.

Edmund could feel himself strain within his breeches.

He had to get away.


End file.
